


Salacious Invitations

by Tamahariel



Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamahariel/pseuds/Tamahariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few exchanges of flirty banter and a salacious offer had been all that was needed for Anders to end up in his commander’s quarters with his antivan lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salacious Invitations

A few exchanges of flirty banter and a salacious offer had been all that was needed for Anders to end up in his commander’s quarters with his antivan lover.

Deft fingers worked off his belt while a tongue expertly explored his mouth. Breaking the kiss and panting for air, the grinning mouth of the elf moved to his stubbled chin then down further along his neck.

”You really know how to use your mouth” Anders panted and Zevran chuckled before answering.

”You have yet to see the full range of my capabilities. I can do far better, I assure you.” The wiggle of the elf’s eyebrows matched the implication of his words and Anders laughed.

”I don’t doubt it!” He said, slipping one hand to the back of the elf’s head, fingers tangling in a pale blond braid and loose tresses as he encouraged him to lean up for another kiss.

Zevran obliged, grinning against his lips as he pressed him up against the wall they had found themselves against once the door closed behind them, teeth flashing as the belt hit the floor and his shirt began riding up his chest, guided by suntanned hands.

The stone was cool against Anders back when he pulled the shirt over his head, making him arch against the solid warmth before him, calloused palms on his lower back encouraging the movement with a pull. Pelvis against stomach, his cock trapped and aching between them and a mouth working on his collarbone, he groaned in pleasure.

The groan changed tone as Zevran pulled back though, his hands on Anders’ hips the only contact between them. Removing one hand to wiggle a finger at the panting mage, Zevran tutted.

”Patience warden. There is no hurry.”

”I wouldn’t normally disagree, but I disagree. I’m quite much in a state of hurry.” A pointed look downwards had the other man snorting and sliding a hand down the fuzzy line of hair on Anders stomach, hooking crooked fingers in the lining of his pants.

”I could help with that, if you are so inclined.” A moments pause to let the offer sink in, then he continued lightly. ”It would be a shame if our dear commander missed out on all the fun though.”

”He’s really coming?” He had been told that, under no uncertain terms, Mahariel would not mind his company should he so desire. It was one thing to hear it and another to see it come true though.

Zevran smiled lightly. ”I would bet on it. Unless, you’ve changed your mind of course.” There was question in the tone of his voice and the tilt of his head but it was replaced with a smirk as Anders shook his head. Though the idea of Mahariel walking in to join them was an odd thought, it wasn’t an all too bad image.

Following the pull on his pants he moved away from the wall, allowing himself to be led to the edge of the big bed opposite of the fireplace. Here he was directed to stand while the antivan slipped around him, swiping up a vial from the bedside table before returning.

”Hold this.” Zevran said and Anders took it, tipping it lightly to see the oily liquid move within the clear glass. Arms wrapped around him from behind, startling him. Warm breaths ghosted against his spine as the hands moved from his stomach, trailing along his lower ribs, down his sides to his hips before going forward again to the laces on his front.

And those fingers were doing wicked work. Anders had no doubt Zevran could remove his pants without as much as brushing anything save the laces, but the assassin apparently was not inclined to restrain himself. His knuckles and fingertips freely grazed the bulge in his pants, taking way too long on the task of freeing him.

Anders panted, fingers sweaty around the vial in his hand. A groan escaped him as a hand finally made its way past the confining cloth, pushing it down till it pooled around his feet before fingers shamelessly wrapped around his cock.

Moving gently, fingers loose and steady, Zevran pressed his mouth against Anders’ shoulder-blade, chuckling at the breathless moan escaping the mage’s mouth.

”Hmm, I think I like that. Your voice is -very- enticing.” He mused, voice rolling off his tongue in that lovely accent of his. It made Anders moan again and a shiver traveled through him at the touch of a toothy grin against his back.

”Now, on the bed if you would.” Releasing Anders cock he moved back, one hand taking the vial from him while the other was placed against his back, putting pressure until Anders gave, bending and putting his hands on the mattress.

When he didn’t move fast enough Zevran playfully swatted his backside, pleased with the twitch of muscles and rounded flesh. ”Up you go.”

”Yes, ser!” Anders replied, amused by the man’s playful antics. Knees on the mattress he felt his boots and pants being pulled off before an increasingly familiar hand touched his lower back, caressing the dip and curve.

”I didn’t know we played that game as of yet.” His voice was full of teasing playfulness and Anders responded in kind, arching his back and raising his ass to the hand against it.

”Well, there’s no hurry, right?” A rebound of the man’s earlier words and a surprised laugh was his reward.

”Haha, you got me there!” There was laughter in his voice, rolling and smooth. Anders really liked his voice. It was different, and it was good. He wouldn’t mind hearing a lot more of it at all.

But for now Anders listened to the faint creak of the bed, feeling the slight tilt of added weight as Zevran placed a knee on it. The cap on the small vial popped loose a moment later and Anders awaited the smooth slide of those wicked fingers, cock twitching between his legs in anticipation.

He was not disappointed. A warm, dry palm found his hip and a warm breath preceded a peck to his right cheek. Then there was temperate slick, the light pressure of a finger trailing down his crack, brushing past his entrance without stopping.

Zevran let his hand envelope Anders balls, gently squeezing them and listening to the man’s labored breath. Teasingly rolling them, stroking with his thumb and humming in appreciation, Zevran stroked his hip and thigh with his other hand.

”You complimented my mouth, perhaps you would do the same for my hands?” Teasing again, but Anders moaned in response.

”Maker, yes” It felt good, warm and wet and pressure that was never too tight, but just right. He rocked slightly on his knees, rolling his hips to the movement of Zevran’s hand. If the man wanted compliments he could oblige. He could praise him to the fade and back as long as he kept doing that.

From his balls the pressure and glide moved to his cock and he reflexively thrust into the snare of his fingers, not the least bit embarrassed at the chuckle his eagerness brought. His cock slid between deft fingers, wetness beading at the tip as Zevran stroked down, stopping shy of the crowning glans. Drawing back up he rubbed his thumb against the base of his cock, beneath his balls and Anders’ hips jerked, intense pleasure shooting through him.

Zevran continued stroking him leisurely, a small hummed tune startling a short laugh out of Anders before a swipe over the head of his cock had him groaning again. When Anders’ cock hung hard and freely dripping onto the fine bedding Zevran’s hand finally left him with a last stroke, a shush and the popping sound of the vial reassuring that things were not over yet.

This time when the lithe fingers teased at his entrance, they did not slide away. Two of them gently rubbed at the rim, smearing it with oil and easing the tension before delving inside.

One knuckle followed another, the pressure easing inside with assured movements. Anders loved it, the feel of his hands, of his breath against his ass cheek as he gave it a playful kiss again. The gentle stretch and warmth.

”I have thought of this moment before.” Zevran’s softly rolling voice drawled and Anders gave a slight hum in response, the questioning lilt asking him to continue. ”You, warden, and my fingers in you.”

”Really?” An incredulous but amused question, Anders was too surprised to do more. Zevran pulled his finger out, pressing two of them teasingly along his rim before easing them inside, one bit at a time.

”Oh yes.” Zevran mused, never distracted from his ministrations. ”Those clothes Mahariel dresses you in are quite formidable, as you might know. I admit that I’ve spent some time… admiring.”

”Admiring?” Anders prompted slightly breathy and Zevran obliged, voice sweet.

”Do not act as though it surprises you, warden. Surely you are aware of the way your shirt strains at your shoulders when you move, and the exquisite way your pants crease around your ass.”

”I didn’t know about the ass, actually.” He wasn’t fishing for compliments, really. Zevran hummed and Anders listened attentively.

”Hmm, pity. It is a -marvelous- behind.” Punctuating his statement with a twist of his fingers , Zevran dragged his fingers down until Anders jerked against him, a gasp involuntarily drawn from him at the warm spike of pleasure.

Zevran continued to let his fingers slide over the small bump inside him, massaging. Anders panted, groaning at the sensation building from the fingers moving expertly inside him. Arching his back and raising his head he pushed back against Zevran, and it was at this moment that the door opened.

”Hello Anders.”

The voice was low and amused and Anders felt a flush creeping into his hairline as he mustered an embarrassed grin, swallowing his nerves and raising his head to look up at his commander standing in the doorway, still in his official clothing of quilted blue and warden grey.

”Hello Commander.” He replied and the elf smiled, the purple lines on his face shifting with his features. The door closed behind him and Anders felt a slight draft, causing his skin to knot and muscles to twitch, reminded of the still present hand against his hip. Zevran had withdrawn his fingers for the moment, sitting down on his knees.

Anders couldn’t see him, but he heard the purr in his voice as he greeted Mahariel.

”Mi amor.” Mahariel grinned, his soft leather boots barely making a sound as he walked the small distance to the bed.

”Arainai.” Mahariel answered his lover with no less warmth as he arrived, leaning over Anders briefly to give his lover a kiss. Caught in-between the two, Anders felt out of place, in the way, but then Mahariel sat down on the bed right beside him, a hand, calloused from years using a bow, cupped his chin and tilted his head up.

His grey eyes bored into Anders’ own, intense but gentle, the sharp angles of his features softened by his demeanor.

”I am glad you are here, Anders.” It was both reassurance and an unvoiced question. It did not take long before Anders smiled and leaned into the hand on his face.

”Well, Zevran can be -very- convincing.”

”That he can be.” Mahariel agreed, his teeth showing in a wider smile than his last.

A hand descended lightly against Anders rump, more a pat than a slap but still enough to jolt him slightly. Two pair of eyes turned to Zevran who bemusedly returned the look, unashamed.

”There are better things to do than talk about little old me, isn’t there?” Though amusement glinted in his eyes, it was an obvious prompting.

Mahariel nodded. ”True enough” he conceded, and then turned to Anders again, moving closer and urging him to sit up.

His cock still hung hard between his legs and it bobbed slightly with his movement drawing attention to it. A suntanned hand came around his waist, the other brushing along his lower abdomen, teasingly close to his cock. He felt Zevran shifting behind him, a hardness covered in leather pressing against his lower back. In front of him was his commander, one knee on the bed, the other on the side, foot against the floor.

Placing a hand against Anders stubbled cheek, Mahariel leaned forward until they could feel each others breath brushing against their skin.

”If you would allow it, Arainai will continue, and I” He paused, eyelids lowering a fraction before he continued in a lower voice ”will watch.”

”I think I can live with that” Anders breathed, pupils dilated and a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He would be a fool to decline, and though it wasn’t his usual cup he could definitely enjoy it. He reveled in the smile his commander gave him and the pleased murmur at his ear.

”I knew we could come to an agreement.” Zevran purred and his hand finally stopped teasing through the hair leading to Anders cock and took the member in his hand, stroking and tightening the grip around his waist with his other arm. Anders twitched in his grip, moaning and leaning into his grip. For being smaller than him, Zevran made a good job of not making Anders feel awkwardly large when held.

With a small breath through his nose Mahariel moved back, smoothly getting to his feet and casually started working the clasps on his quilted shirt. Anders watched as he let it slide down his shoulders, catching it in his hands as it fell down, slipping one hand out before gathering the cloth up and dropped it off on the dresser.

His back was to them, sleek and pale, his shoulders wide and hips narrow, muscles playing underneath the skin as he moved. He took a seat in the plush chair that now seemed almost as though it had been placed there just for this occasion, moved from its twin at the fireplace, and he toed off his boots, eyes locking on the two men.

Zevran moved his hand leisurely over Anders’ cock, twisting at the top and swiping up the fluid leaking from his slit. Anders did his best to not buck too much, not wanting to topple them over, but it was a struggle. The grip on him was just right, still a little slick which made the glide smooth. It was good, but he missed the touch of his fingers in him and would really like to feel his cock. The mere thought had him twitching in the assassin’s grasp.

On the armchair, Mahariel was leaned back, his eyes attentive while his hand moved along the bulge at his crotch, palming himself through his clothes. He was gorgeous and Anders closed his eyes, groaning.

”I do like the sounds you make” Zevran murmured, brushing moist lips against his shoulder. ”I would not mind if you made more.” He continued a moment later, nipping at his skin the next time his mouth brushed against his skin.

”I can manage that.” Anders panted and the two elves grinned.

”Will you bend over for me then, warden?” Anders nodded eagerly and Zevran chuckled, removing his arm around the mage’s waist so he could put his hands back down on the bed, sinking further down to his elbows before he arched his back invitingly.

”Marvelous” Zevran praised, fingers soon returning to Anders entrance newly slicked. It did not take long for him to be stretched and ready but it felt like an age before finally fingers were replaced by the slick head of the elf’s cock. Pushing inside, Zevran’s hands went to his hips, drawing him back towards him as he pushed forward.

The elf’s cock slid in smoothly, the steady warmth backed up by the pressure of his pelvis. Anders panted heavily through his mouth, arching back against the pressure. A soft sound caught his attention, for it wasn’t his and Zevran gave a low groan right after, so it was not him either.

From the side Anders could see Mahariel spreading his legs wider, the wide span of his fingers encompassing the bulge of his crotch. His stomach rose and fell with his breathing, a little faster now.The redness of his lips was spotted with pale pink where his teeth trapped the full flesh and his eyes gazed at the two of them, heady with lust.

Anders licked his lips and grinned at his commander before his eyes snapped shut at the first thrust inside him. Zevran moved leisurely, his grip on the mage’s hips steady. He gave a throaty murmur, encouraging as his hips pressed against him, the full swell of Anders’ ass rolling gently every time they met with a gentle slap.

Anders cock swung between his legs with every rock, the hard length aching and wet. The impulse to wrap a hand around it to compliment Zevran’s thrusts was tempting, but he could manage, oh! especially if he did -that-. He gasped as Zevran leaned into him, his angle and rhythm both changing, his movements growing slightly heavier, stronger.

”Where is your voice warden?” He asked, his voice thick and breath brushing his shoulder blades. Anders let out an appreciative moan in response and Zevran praised him with words and friction.”Yes caro, that’s it.”

Knowing the sounds he made pleased the man encouraged him to let his pleasures be known through luscious moans and the occasional word of praise. He was not ashamed to put on a show, and since there was someone to watch it, he wanted to do his best to leave a good impression.

Mahariel had opened the strings of his loins, taking himself in hand. His flesh was heated and stiffening with the rise of his arousal. He let his hand squeeze and pull, drag the ample foreskin over the head and back, spreading the first hint of seed over his skin. His other hand roamed, over his stomach, his chest, brushing over the pebbled rises on either side, shuddering at the light sensation of a touch.

Stroking his hand firmer against his skin, arching into both it and the circle around his cock he watched the muscles moving beneath Zevran’s skin, the roll of Anders full figure, the sweat that glinted on both of their forms as they moved.

They were gorgeous, breathtaking, ravishing. From the flush of their skin to the depths of their cores. Seeing them come together in a clash of pale freckles and tattooed tan, both smiling and loving every moment, every move was a gift and Mahariel savored it, wrung the pleasure from the moment as well as his body.

Zevran loved the warmth of this man, the feel of burying himself inside him, of feeling his sweat under his palms were he held onto his hips. The sounds both Anders and his commander let out were sweeter than music to his ears and every move he made was in the spirit of bringing more of it, of pleasuring these men and finding his own pleasure in doing so.

Moving one hand from the mage’s plump hip he wrapped it around his blond tail, guiding his head back. ”Do you have any words for me warden?” He grinned, cheeks lightly flushed and strands of his pale hair stuck to his skin.

Anders licked his lips and managed a crooked grin in response. ”Harder Zevran.” His demand was met with a pleased noise and the release of his hair as Zevran grabbed his hips with both hands once more.

”As you desire.” The words rolled thick and heavy from his tongue and the impact of his hips followed, snapping against his backside eagerly. His balls slapped against his scrotum, the sacks drawing tighter against Zevran’s body.

Anders couldn’t help the sounds he made, they were more than theatrics. His stomach was tight with pleasure that only mounted, rose as though it had in mind to claim all his body, seep through every veins, tingling with intensity. It was already harder to breathe, to remain on his hands and knees.

And yet, it wasn’t enough. His cock craved more, craved friction, any form of touch. But he didn’t get it, only the continued pounding of his ass, the brush against that spot inside him that had his cock twitching as though it was going to release all that pent up tension, only it didn’t, not quite, and it had him aching and moaning louder.

”Anders” His name caught his attention and he raised his head and twisted it to look over his shoulder, but halted halfway by a strong hand that snapped out to grab his hair, holding him in place. His gaze fell to Mahariel then, and the sight was marvelous. His head was fallen back, auburn hawk messy on the crown of his head. His cheeks were flushed, the lines of his vallaslin furrowed at his brow and his mouth hung slightly open as he panted.

His hand moved over his cock, the strokes quick and efficient, determined. He was close, Anders could see it from the tightness in his moves, the pleasure and excitement written in his face.

”Cariño, beautiful.” Zevran praised, his words for Mahariel but his movements for Anders. The dalish twitched at the words, muscles tightening briefly, arching limbs and eyes fluttering. Anders bit back a groan and pressed back against the man, feeling his back against Zevran’s chest, sweat slicking the touch of skin against skin.

Hands moved from his hips up his stomach, chest, the change of his position urging Anders up, hands leaving the mattress and knees spreading wider for balance. Zevran’s breath panted harshly against his shoulder, lips and teeth and tongue brushing him.

”Look at you” He breathed against his skin and Anders shivered and bucked against the suddenly slowed rhythm. ”So eager.” Anders bit his lip, head falling back and his throat bobbing as he swallowed between panted breaths. The way words rolled off that wicked tongue was unfair.

”Loving the attention” The elf continued and Anders answered hoarsely: ”Yes.”

”Would you like to cum then warden? With me inside you and your commander watching you -writhe-” His tone dropped deeper, lilting with mischief and lust and dirty implications. Anders eyes fell to Mahariel who watched them, his eyes deep and bright, intense, and he felt his muscles bunch.

”Yes, oh maker yes!” He groaned and a grin split Mahariel’s face, and then there was a hand on his cock, fast and slick and skillful and it was all he had needed. He trembled, his balls tightening against his body as his cock jerked and spilled, stringy seed gushing out over the warm hand on him and the fine sheets beneath them. With his commanders face burned into his eyes and his lover’s name falling from his tongue in a hoarse shout he orgasmed, tightening and straining as the tension reached it’s peak, and fell.

But it was not over. Zevran was moving quickly inside him, mouth pressed against his shoulder to muffle his sounds and he saw Mahariel shake, his hips straining upwards as he made a few desperate jerks before his release painted his chest and stomach, his toes and legs curling and arching, tensing like a bowstring before sagging, unwinding.

The sight coupled with the feeling of Zevran at his back was almost too much for his sensitive nerves. He moaned, not intending to, but needing to, and it seemed the limit was met for the antivan as well as his hips stuttered and warmth spilled inside him.

For a moment they stilled, their breaths heaving and Zevran’s fingers digging into the curve of his hip and the dip of his collarbone. Then they parted, a bit stiffly, a bit loosely, their limbs not quite as nimble as when they’d begun, numbed by the rush of passion that now ebbed away, leaving them lazed and sated.

Anders lay down, groaning a bit as he twisted and turned until he was on his back, chest heaving lungfuls of air down his throat. He made a face as the tail on his head pressed against his skull and raised a hand to loose the tangled knot, raking his fingers through his hair, against his scalp as he freed it to wash over the mattress.

With a small bounce of the bed Zevran lay beside him, his pants discarded and his movements languid and pleased. He stretched his arms above his head, boasting the fit frame of his body and then returned with a pillow that he offered the mage. Anders accepted it, placing it under his head as Zevran draped himself onto his chest, arms crossed and head leaning on them.

Anders followed his gaze and saw Mahariel stretch, rolling his strong shoulders before going to the adjoining room, pulling up his pants as he went. When he returned it was with a washcloth, and he handed it to Zevran before stripping of his pants fully and sitting down next to Anders.

Zevran and Anders both did a sloppy job of cleaning the worst of the mess off each other, smiling and rubbing against each other playfully as they did. Mahariel watched with a grin and when the two settled he placed a hand against Anders cheek, tilting his head towards him. Anders took it as a cue and returned the gesture, placing his much larger hand against his commanders cheek, guiding him down and leaning up so they could share a first kiss.

His mouth was warm and his lips thin, teeth eager to play. He tasted remnants of wine and spices, and it was an altogether pleasant experience. When they parted he found both Mahariel and Zevran smiling.

”I take it you enjoyed this evening.” He said and Zevran stroked a hand idly down Anders chest.

”Very much so com- err, Mahariel.” Mahariel chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with laughter.

”You are very much welcome to our bed Anders. Any time you wish.” A chaste peck touched his nose and he couldn’t keep the smile from his own features, genuinely content.

”I’ll keep that in mind.” He sad as he leaned back, watching the two smiling elves, only slightly embarrassed as the two lovers exchanged a gaze and then a short kiss, tongues barely reaching out to touch each other before they pulled away.

They all settled down then, limbs tangling and breaths hot against skin. In the silence that followed, the crackling of the fire could finally be heard again, and from outside the muffled sound of the wind roamed. Unused as Anders was to sleeping beside anyone, he found the experience rich. The warmth, the closeness and the realization he was in no hurry anywhere added to the contentment he felt.

He lay awake even after his bedmates breaths turned deep and slow, staring at the shadows on the roof played by the fire. But a rustle and loss of contact on one side had him blinking and turning his head to look. 

”Sleep, warden.” Zevran hushed him lowly, a finger pressed to his lips before he moved back a bit from the two, pulling the covers up to them and settling down once more. Anders missed the warmth, but he could understand the need for space the man felt, and with his commander’s slow breathing against his shoulder and the sight of fire playing like gold on the antivan’s resting form, he fell asleep.


End file.
